


What is Necessary

by Anonymous



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Baggage, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Pegging, Size Kink, Spoilers, Talosians (Star Trek), Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 14:50:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21078608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: ”You came back to me. You didn’t have to, but you did.”“Needed to,” he replies.“Okay, okay. It was necessary.”





	What is Necessary

**Author's Note:**

> Contains mild spoilers for season two of Discovery and the new Short Trek.  
Edited 1/3/20

It starts, as all things like this start, with an away mission gone wrong. They lost people, good people, down there and now he has to send condolences and hold memorials—the inescapable worst part of the job.

She follows him into his quarters. Her eyes are wild. Her hair still has pieces of bracken tangled in it. Dirt and blood are smeared over her face and uniform. He tries to take a breath to speak and she steals it right out of him.

He fucks her over the desk. It is hard and fast and a brutal affirmation that they are alive while others are not. When it’s over they both still have their boots on. He already wants her again, but he can’t, not right away. He shouldn’t at any time.

Her hands are still wrapped around his shoulder blades under his uniform. Her nails have dug in shallow crescents that he will have to live with lest his CMO finds out what he—they—have done.

She starts laughing, desperate and hysterical, straight into his neck. He follows her over that edge too.

She is beautiful and incandescent and he can’t know that about her.

* * *

He builds up a catalogue of things he can’t know about her. He knows what she looks like while he fucks her over the desk in his ready room. He knows what her hair looks like, splayed over his pillows. He knows that she loves what he can do with his tongue. He knows what she can do with hers and struggles not to think about how much he likes it at inopportune moments. He has memorized what she looks like on her knees. He’ll never forget the smell of her skin and the way it tastes clean and wet in the shower.

On the job, he leans into the things he can know about her. He knows her brilliance and intelligence. The way she can get things done, almost without having to be asked. She’s prepared for every potential situation and can keep cool and work her way through any surprises. She is indispensable.

He wonders how this happened to him. How did she weave herself as the weft in the warp of his life? He knows why he can’t stop himself now. He sees her every day in front of him on the bridge, in the briefing room, away missions, his ready room. She’s in his quarters more nights than she’s not. His sheets smell like both of them almost as soon as they’re changed. He has to maintain careful distance and all the appearances of decorum when she’s pale and wan on a bio-bed in sickbay. She does the same and he wonders if she hates that as much as he does. He’ll never ask. 

* * *

They’ve been at this so long now that this unspoken not-relationship has lasted longer than any romance he’s ever had. No one knows, except for the two of them. That suits him fine and she’s the same as she’s ever been. Then, Ensign Spock comes on board and they spend an age trapped in a turbolift together.

He smiles to himself as he listens in on her calls to engineering. She starts polite enough and by the end, she’s not even letting them talk. He sympathizes with his engineers.

Yeah, he knows what that’s like. Up close and personal. They should all know better than to fail the first officer.

It doesn’t occur to him to worry until they’re both on the bridge and she makes a show of looking up Ensign Spock’s name like no one knows where she was or who she was with. He’s too busy looking at her to see Spock’s expression or his non-expression. There is a challenge aimed squarely at Spock in her face though.

What is that about?

He doesn’t ask.

That’s not the way they work.

But she’s naked in his bed when he comes in after finishing his reports in his ready room. He strips down and climbs over her. He runs his hand down her body and in between her legs where she’s as wet as if she’s already…

She spreads her legs and he presses two fingers into her. At the very least, she’s started without him. At most…

To his shame, the idea makes him see red. He pulls his fingers away and pushes into her and moves like he’s trying to imprint himself on her. He’s not supposed to have her, but he does. He’ll be damned if some fresh from the Academy kid has any piece of her. He sucks bruises across her collarbone. He leaves more in the shapes of his fingers splayed across her hips. He revels in the marks while hating himself. If she does have the kid, let him worry about who had her before him. It’s a horrible thought all the way around, but he can’t stop it.

She bites his shoulder when she clamps around him like a vise and it sends him over. He swears she’s never missed a day of Kegels in her adult life, based on how tight she can squeeze him when she comes. He stays inside her as long as he cand stand to, but finally, he withdraws and rolls off of her.

They lay like that, not looking at each other, as they catch their breaths. She rolls to the side and up onto one elbow. She looks down at him and traces the lines of his chest with one finger.

“I didn’t fuck the kid if that’s what got into you.”

He stills and even though he tries to recover by grinning up at her… He’s been caught.

“I didn’t think you had,” he says.

She pinches his nipple in mild retaliation. “You’re a piss poor liar and making an ass of yourself. I’m not going to fuck the kid either. He’s Vulcan for one thing, he’s got over a decade before he really hits sexual maturity if the rumors can be believed. And I’ve never heard of a Vulcan doing anything other than ‘’til death do us part’ serious anyway.” She huffs out a breath.

“He’s half-human,” he says mildly and she rolls her eyes. “He wouldn’t know what to do with you anyway,” he adds as he rolls her over onto her back and settles in between her legs. He starts working his way down with his lips and tongue and teeth.

“And you do?” She asks.

“I don’t hear you complaining,” he says and licks over a hipbone.

She spreads her legs a bit more.

Afterward, he asks, “So what did you two do in that ‘lift?”

“We sang operettas,” she deadpans. “Until we couldn’t hold back our laughter.”

“You’re going to have to try a bit harder than that,” he says.

She smiles into his shoulder. “He just asked me questions. I’ve had more excruciating interviews.”

* * *

The next day is a battle of suppressing a wince as his uniform chafes against the mark on his shoulder. His consolation and shame is that she’s wincing a bit too. When she moves around the bridge, the cadence of her walk is slightly off and he can’t help a bit of satisfaction at that. 

Behind him, he can feel Ensign Spock’s curious eyes take in everything in between learning what it means to be a fully-fledged science officer on a working starship. Around lunch, Spock asks her if she’s well and she makes an excuse that sanitizes the truth rather than obliterates it. He puts a hand over his mouth to disguise his smile.

By the end of Ensign Spock’s first week on Enterprise, he’s not sure if the kid wants to worship at her feet or become her when he grows up—minus the secret trysts with the captain, of course.

* * *

One night he goes to her quarters. She isn’t expecting him. He was supposed to be at a diplomatic dinner and he was. He was supposed to spend the night on the planet, too, but that he can get out of easily. Starfleet Captains are notoriously difficult to pry away from their ships and he’s not about to be an exception. 

She answers the door in a robe and he thanks everything that the corridor is empty as she lets him inside. He kisses her and makes short work of opening her robe. It’s the only thing she’s wearing.

He pulls away from her mouth and presses their foreheads together. “Taking risks, Number One?”

“No more than usual, sir,” she says and her hands are pulling his uniform off. They move in concert to the bed and he spots it. It’s half-buried in the blankets, a suggestively shaped piece of silicone.

He has nothing to be ashamed of. He’s above average and she gets off from little more than penetration with startling regularity. This is more about the way she works than anything he does, but it still manages to boost his ego each time it happens. She’s never given any indication that she was dissatisfied is his point.

The toy is all lurid colors, like an accident in tie-dying. It’s about as long as he is, but the girth of the thing... It’s not quite double his own. It’s absurd. Is there even enough blood in the human body to get that thing hard and not have the owner lose consciousness?

She turns to see where he’s looking and one side of her mouth quirks up.

“I expected a quiet night in—alone,” she says.

“Disappointed?”

“No.”

He makes a snap decision. “I want to see what you were doing,” he says into her ear. He kisses her neck and she moans.

She takes off her robe and settles at the head of the bed. Her legs are apart and drawn up at the knees. He sits at the foot of the bed, taking off his boots, socks, and uniform jacket. He rubs her calf to soothe her as she picks up the toy and slicks it with lubricant form a bottle he hadn’t noticed.

When she pushes it inside, just the head at first, it looks impossible. Slowly, she buries it inside to the hilt and works it back out. His breath catches as she builds up a rhythm—faster and harder.

He could come at any moment, but he doesn’t want to. Not yet.

He strips off his undershirt and pants—far too overheated to leave them on. The few seconds his shirt obscures his vision is hell.

Her eyes are closed so he traces a hand up her leg as he leans toward her. He finally meets her hands where they’re working at the apex of her thighs.

“May I?” he asks.

She opens her eyes and whines. She lets go of the toy and he takes over. He’s terrified of hurting her, but there’s only pleasure in her face as she works her clit. He leans down and licks around her fingers and she lets go there too. She pushes his head closer instead, holding onto his hair.

It’s not long then until her orgasm hits her. He’s so turned on he can’t see straight, but he pulls down his underwear and jerks off onto her. It only takes a few pulls of his fist. She’s going to be upset at the mess on her stomach and pubic mound, but right now it's worth it.

Once he can breathe somewhat normally, he works the toy out of her. She’s more open than he’s ever seen before in its wake. He gently traces one finger around her reddened entrance.

“Please,” she says.

“Please what?”

“Want you.”

He slips one finger inside and there’s no resistance. He slips in another and then another. He looks up at her, “Another?”

She nods and whispers, “Yes.”

He’s working four fingers inside her and she’s taking it like they’re nothing. He curls them upwards and she moans. Her legs twitch involuntarily. He presses his thumb against her clit and that’s all it takes and she clenches down on him rhythmically.

Eventually, he eases his hand free and leans over her and kisses her. She responds without any urgency and he’s lost. Later, he carries her into the shower and cleans her body with the care he didn’t know he was capable of.

That night he watches her sleep and everything has changed. They still haven’t discussed this arrangement of theirs. A mistake perhaps, because he’s in love with her and has been for... well, probably since before this all started. But he can admit it now. Admit it to himself, if no one else. That changes the rules. It should change the rules.

In the morning he puts the cleaned toy in the drawer next to her bed. It’s not the only toy she owns. There’s a variety of items in there. One, in particular, attracts his attention, but he’s not about to bring it up. Not yet.

* * *

The night he’s back on the ship after the absolute shit show of Rigel VII is the last night he wants to be in control of anything. He wants to curl into her and ignore that he’s a captain with the responsibility of so many lives on his shoulders. He doesn’t want to make any more decisions tonight. He walks out of the bathroom that connects their quarters into her cabin, fresh from a shower in a Starfleet issue robe. She’s sitting at her desk, working on something.

“What’s something you’ve wanted to do with me that we haven’t yet?” he asks.

She doesn’t even look up. “You mean sexually or just in general?”

“Damn, now I’m curious about the ‘in general category’, but let’s stick with sexual for now.”

She swivels toward him and smiles, sweetly at first before going a bit mischievous, “And you want an honest answer?” she asks.

“I require honesty,” he says, keeping his arms at his sides.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to fuck you with a strap-on, but was never sure how to bring it up.”

He blinks and his shoulders hit the bulkhead just behind him when his knees go a bit weak. That shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. The necessary equipment is already in this room, too. The idea had been in the back of his mind since he saw in that drawer, but he didn’t... She could have it for another lover he doesn’t know about or it may have been a holdover from a previous relationship. When she would have the time to meet with someone else, he doesn’t know, but she’s always been efficient and industrious.

“You did require honesty,” she says.

“I’ve, uh, never done that before,” he says.

“We don’t—“ she starts before he cuts her off.

“But I think I want to. I think I want you to,” he says.

She gets up then and walks to him. She kisses him and his arms go around her automatically.

When she pulls away she says, “We’ll start slow.”

“Okay.”

“But first... Exactly how clean did you get in that shower?”

Not clean enough, he learns. A short, but mortifying time later (where he thinks about how much he does love her and wants this and how he had better enjoy this to the fullest extent possible to justify this) he is cleaner than he’s been since his most invasive physical to date.

When he comes back into her cabin, she’s changed into her robe and sitting on the bed. There is an array of items next to her.

She looks at him and gets up. She presses against him and tilts her head up to kiss him. It’s reassuring. They are still the same people, even if they’ve never done this sort of thing. He’s never done this sort of thing at all, but he hopes like hell she has.

She has. Oh god, she clearly has. It’s still awkward at first, he’s unused to the sensations, his only experiences with having anything foreign in that part of his anatomy limited to a distinctly medical context. That’s all he can really think about when she starts, but that exposed awkward feeling doesn’t last long. A simple crook of her finger and he jolts. She lets him settle and starts in earnest.

It’s a different sensation from what he’s used to, but no less intoxicating. He doesn’t want it to end, but she removes her fingers and asks him if he’s ready. He nods helplessly and he feels something that’s not fingers.

The idea of it is more jarring than the reality. The horrible vulnerability and awkwardness are back, but they recede soon after. She shifts and she’s right where he wants her. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt closer to her and there’s really no one else he can imagine doing this with. 

She wraps a hand around him and a few pulls later and he’s lost.

She holds him close when it’s all over. She strokes his hair with her clean hand and he has to kiss her. There’s no other option. He’s safe here with her, even though he feels raw and vulnerable and afraid. She has to know by now what a sentimental lovesick fool he is where she’s concerned, no matter how well he tries to hide it.

* * *

Talos IV messes with his head even after they are several days away. He doesn’t know how or why they didn’t throw the secrets he has with her in his face more than they did. Compared to what occurred before she and Yeoman Colt were taken off the ship, what happened after was easy. For him, at least. 

She’d been up on the surface, trying to get him back, unsure of what was happening with him. All of that, only to find out he’d been captured as breeding stock with some vague plan of a human-centric planet and cultural improvement effort down the road. After they’d reproduced.

Having children had fallen off his sensor readout when he’d made captain. And having those children with his first officer... well, strictly speaking, there were no regulations against it, but... There were a lot of reasons why that wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t even something he’d considered, not even in that Talosian cell.

It’s one of the easier things he can consider now. Better than thinking about how the Talosians got into his head. How they used him and Vina. How Vina wanted to stay there and what she was willing to do— what she wanted to do. He has to assume that she wanted him of her own volition, whether as a way to alleviate her loneliness or to alleviate the pressure placed on her by her keepers. That had to have been why there was an illusory version of him with her right now. Thinking about that made his stomach churn a bit. He was glad to be of assistance, especially since he didn’t have to stay there to do it, but it creeped him out.

So, yes, it was better to think of the remarkable children he could have produced with his first officer, all things considered. It was even better to think about the shore leave they were going to have in less than a week at Starbase 11. Until then, he had to mark time and try to find out exactly why his first was avoiding him.

She doesn’t want to see him off duty, that’s made clear by the locked door and he isn’t so crass as to use his override to let himself in. And that holds no matter how desperate he is just to be near her, he reminds himself.

He hasn’t followed suit and locked his door. That is why he’s not entirely surprised to wake up the night before they’re due at Starbase 11 to her sliding into his bed—pressing close on the narrow mattress. She has regulation pajamas on, which is new. He wraps an arm around her and she tucks her head under his chin.

He feels like he can really breathe again. “I missed you,” he says.

“Missed you too, but I needed some time.” She pauses and he can feel every twitch of her body as she tries to figure out her next words. “Did you want her?” she finally asks.

“She was attractive, but I fought against everything they wanted me to do. I wanted to get back to the ship more than anything.”

“The ship wanted you back too,” she says softly. “Plus, their plan was shit,” she adds in a more strident tone. “They’d have to capture at least twenty ships to hit the minimum viable population and achieve their goal.”

“Shh, don’t give them any ideas,” he says and kisses the top of her head. “Have you ever thought about children, though?”

“Not especially—“

“Me neither.”

“But if you want them with me you’d better get yourself a grounded post. I’ve got plans and they don’t involve being the one stuck on the ground for months and years at a time.”

“Well, that settles it. We’ll keep the status quo. Ships, sex, and the stars.”

“What a romantic description,” she says deadpan.

It’s the first time that they’ve shared a bed without any sort of preamble. Now, he can’t imagine why not. The sexual gratification and closeness he feels with her in those moments are spectacular, but the intimacy of sharing this space with her is something he’d severely undervalued.

That’s not to say they don’t do something together when they wake up or make up for lost time over their shore leave.

* * *

His time on Discovery is... transformative. Everyone in the entire damn Federation has been walloped by the last year and a half and his ship despite being kept away from the war is no exception. The universe isn’t even finished with them yet.

Spock goes on leave for reasons he doesn’t have to explain, but also won’t explain. Spock could never be accused of being an open book, but a refusal to explain something is a red flag with him. On top of that, the Enterprise gets knocked out of commission, temporarily, and he has to jump ship. The mission overrides everything else. He leaves Number One behind. There’s no one else he’d rather leave in charge and, well, she’d take point on this anyway. She’s mucked around in nearly every system that ship has and would insist on monitoring any other attempts at mucking.

One day in and he loses one of his officers, pompous bastard that he was, and it still smarts. It was Dunning-Krueger in action. There are some disadvantages to having Spock lead the Sciences division. Underlings tend to model the behaviors of their senior officers and not everyone can grok that Spock acts that way because he is just that good. He has no problem being proven wrong in a scientific capacity and can yield to superior logic. Connolly only thought he was as good as Spock or close anyway and didn’t possess Spock’s better traits and talents. No matter what animus he suspects exists between Spock and Michael Burnham, Spock would have listened and not made Connolly’s fatal mistake.

Still, he’ll write a glowing review of Connolly’s character and abilities. Attribute everything of fault to himself (there were things he could have done, such as being more assertive with his authority) and the cruel vagaries of fate.

When they make it back, he tracks Number One down. He has a couple of pretenses. Ship’s business is an old standby and he needs to get some things from his quarters if he’s going to be living on Discovery for awhile. The not-quite Captain Lorca’s quarters are bleak and what was the guy’s thing for fortune cookies?

She’s easy to find since she’s in his quarters.

“Is this your way of saying you missed me?” he asks.

“No. I needed something from your safe. You put those blueprints in here, remember?” She holds up a data tape as evidence, still looking at the monitor on his desk.

“And you just decided to make yourself at home then, hm, Acting Captain?” He leans down to her, lifting her chin with his fingertips and kisses her. She must have missed him because what he started, she escalates until she pulls away abruptly and he almost overbalances into the desktop.He rights himself and she stands up, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“So, I hear you nearly died and Connolly did die.”

“I wasn’t trying to and neither was Connolly.” He kisses her again, but she pulls away soon after.

“Uh-huh, should I send some care instructions for self-sacrificing captains over to Commander Saru?”

“Will it include this part? Because, he’s a fine officer, but I’ll pass.”

That gets a laugh out of her. “Well, I could always send it to Burnham.” She laughs again, this time at him and the face he’s sure he’s making or at some joke inside her head. It’s a toss-up. “No, but I’m glad Nhan’s sticking around.”

“Going to keep you informed, is she?”

“It’s for your own good.”

“Oh, I’m sure, but if we’re going to do something, we don’t have a lot of time. I have to move to Discovery and...”

She’s unzipping his uniform jacket and it distracts him. “I think you’ll find most of what you’ll want to take in those bags over by the door.”

“Thank you. You’re amazing... or incredibly eager to get rid of me and get command yourself.”

“Or both. I’ll let you figure out which it is. What’s the other thing you need to do on the ship?”

“I gave Burnham permission to visit Spock’s quarters. Need to make sure she isn’t doing sibling rivalry crap in there.”

“What like moving all his stuff three millimeters to the left except for two items: one moved four millimeters to the right and one left alone?” she asks and starts taking off her own jacket.

He pulls back a little to look at her. “What the hell—have you been thinking about this?”

“That’s what I’d do if I were Spock’s older sister.”

“If you’re the reason he’s in a psychiatric ward, I’m going to be pissed.”

“I said that’s what I would do,” she says unfastening his pants. “I’m just as upset by Spock’s situation as you are.”

“Okay, okay. I believe you. And you know the rule. No talking about the crew when your hand is on my dick.”

* * *

They don’t get another chance until Discovery is gone, not even when she comes on board to give him some updates in person. But if he pulls her into an alcove in a deserted corridor and kisses her—something they’d never do in Enterprise—well, they were out of view of the security cameras and no one will ever know.

When they do it’s not until they’re back on Earth. He’s still in a daze about everything, though he hides it until he’s officially off the clock. His ship is in dry dock, second major repair in a year, and it’s going to be there for months. There are inquiries upon inquiries into Section 31 and Discovery, but they all have their stories straight. They get through it.

He considers spending his time on Earth in Mojave but decides to stay in San Francisco instead. He’s not sure he can see his family for months on end without something slipping out about his fate. He visits early on, of course, and they know enough not to dig into whatever fresh grief he’s going through.

Back in San Francisco, Una moves in with him. Not officially since she keeps her own residence, but she’s never there. He’s glad to not be alone and to see her every day.

He may have been selfless on Boreth, but he feels greedy now. He wants everything she can give him while he’s still in a state to appreciate it. He doesn’t know when it’s going to happen, just that he’ll have left the Enterprise when it does and the burden is his to bear alone.

He has to try to stop himself from flinching when she touches his face and he can’t explain it. He agrees to do some guest lectures at the Academy and has a panic attack when he tries to put on his instructor uniform and he can’t explain that to her either. He goes in his duty uniform instead. When he holds her at night, he feels like he’s trapping her, although he’s never had any real hold over her outside of the command structure. If she stays long enough... If they ever make this thing between them something less clandestine... If they make any long term decisions, she won’t have all the information. But he can’t let her go.

* * *

Things are better on the ship. The nice part about knowing your fate is that you can take risks. He’s the safest he’s ever been. She is exasperated by him, but that’s not new. Neither is her exasperation spilling over to Spock and Boyce. He holds back a bit after Boyce threatens to relieve him, but if he can save lives... he’s going to do it.

It works out until the afternoon he’s working in his Ready Room and Number One comes in and stands at parade rest.

“They’re offering me a ship, sir. I’m going to take it and I submit that you consider Lieutenant Commander Spock for my replacement.”

The hull must have breached or life support failed without anyone noticing because there’s no air in the room. She’s standing there, utterly impassive, waiting for him to speak.

Somehow he manages to inhale and tries to match her formality. “Of course, Commander. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The distance between them seems insurmountable, but he manages to cross it. He’s sent people to new posts... to new commands even, he can do it this time. He stops in front of her and he puts his hands on her shoulders. She relaxes a fraction and he pulls her into an embrace.

“I mean it. Congratulations. You deserve this.” He kisses her cheek and she turns her head and he kisses her again. “The ship won’t be the same without you. But tell me everything, what have they promised you?”

It’s a newer class of ship, slightly more focused on sciences, but it’s still combat-ready, just like the Constitution class. It’s no wonder it’s taking her away from him. It’s astounding she stayed this long.

* * *

He helps her pack her things and returns items that have migrated into his quarters as they wait for her transfer date. It’s the last thing he wants to do, helping her leave him. But he repeats to himself that it’s what is best for her and her career and he wants that for her. 

* * *

It’s for the best, he thinks as he and Spock lead her to the transporter room, in her uniform with a new rank encircling her wrists. The corridors are packed. She’s been on the ship for nearly a decade, after all. Department heads wish her well in her new assignment and he has to order people out of the transporter room until it’s just senior staff and the transporter chief, who’s extraneous since Louvier insists on operating the controls himself.

She says her goodbyes to everyone and then it’s his turn.

“Keep in touch,” she says.

“Of course,” he says, but he doesn’t really believe it. Starfleet people are busy people.

“Oh, one last thing.”

“What?” he starts to ask, but she’s kissing him. For a second, he swears they’ve both forgotten where they are and what they’re supposed to be doing. Then, she’s gone and up on the transporter pad.

“Ready to transport, Mr. Louvier.”

“Uh, yes, right. Absolutely, Comm—Captain.”

Through his own shock, he hopes like hell the man’s grasp on the controls is better than the one he has on his words.

She keeps her expression neutral as the transporter beam takes her away. He turns around to Louvier who says, “Transport successful, Captain.”

“All right. Let’s get back to work and none of you saw that. Clear?”

He receives a chorus of “Aye, Captain” and “Yes, sir” in response. Everyone begins to shuffle out, except the transporter chief and his yeoman who has produced a tissue from somewhere.

“You have— She left— on your mouth, sir,” she says, handing him the tissue and escaping.

He cleans his mouth and goes back to the bridge.

* * *

Within two days there’s a message from her. It’s short, but he’s surprised to see it at all.

_My new people are not as well trained as my old people. How do you deal with headstrong first officers?_

_Miss you_.

That’s all it says, but it makes the rest of that bridge shift go so much faster.

_They will be soon. I don’t think you really want to use my methods._

_Miss you too_.

He writes back and hopes, but doesn’t expect, a reply.

_You’re right. I don’t. But I could have sworn I was using my methodology on captains who won’t learn through conventional means. Spock’s fortunate. I handed him a learned Captain_.

She writes back. They carry on with this, sending messages back and forth across subspace. They rarely speak through the comm system, either something goes wrong with the schedule or they just aren’t in range. But it cuts through the way the Enterprise suddenly feels so much bigger—except his quarters. They feel like they’ve been cut in half and he has to stop himself from going into what is now Spock’s quarters a truly embarrassing number of times.

He’s thought of the Enterprise as his home for a decade now, but he’s only just realizing what a half-truth that has become. Part of home is on another ship, in a faraway sector.

Once that idea takes hold he can’t get rid of it. She was here for years and he didn’t tell her. Now, she’s gone and he still hasn’t told her. Someday, he will still be around, but he won’t be able to tell her.

At the end of one message, several months after she’s left he adds a single line to his sign off: _I love you_.

_Bastard_, she replies, _say it to my face when we’re docked at Starbase 6 in a month_.

_I will_, he replies.

* * *

Starbase 6 is one of the older bases with an orbiting spacedock. The Enterprise docks a day after her ship arrives and she is waiting for him at the concourse. He beelines straight for her and wraps her in his arms before kissing her more desperately than he has since the night before she left. He doesn’t care who sees and, apparently, neither does she.

He pulls out of the kiss and says, “I love you.”

“Seven years, Chris. Seven fucking years.”

“I know. I know.”

“I love you, too.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Idiot.”

“I am a very lucky idiot because you put up with me. I’d be very very lucky if you’d do so awhile longer.”

She stiffens in his arms. “What do you mean?”

“Marry me.”

She rests her forehead on his shoulder. “Oh thank god, I thought you’d done something horrible or were dying and hadn’t told me.”

“No. I’m fine and the planetary surveys haven’t been too bad lately.”

“Good to hear.”

“Can I have an answer now?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. When?”

“I don’t know. Planning a wedding would be hell with our schedules.”

“We could find the base commander and elope. Right now,” she says.

Together, they quickly find as many of the Enterprise senior staff and bridge crew they can find and she finds her first officer and they go to the Commodore’s office.

In a brief lull between filling out the marriage license and when the Commodore will be ready, he pulls her to one side out of earshot of the crew who accompanied them.

“Not getting cold feet, are you?”

He shakes his head. “Before we do this I want you to promise me something. I know we’re going to promise in sickness and in health until death do us part, but if I become some sort of vegetable in the future, you are not obligated to stick around. I’m not going to hold you to that. If you’re miserable, then I don’t want you to stay miserable. I want you to be happy and if you’re not happy with me, you should find happiness somewhere else. Okay? Promise me you understand that you’re not obligated to stay with me through everything life in Starfleet can throw at us.”

“That defeats the purpose—“

He shakes his head “I love you and I want us to have a life together, but if I disappear through a spatial rift next week, I don’t want you to feel trapped. You should be able to move on, even if I’m still technically alive.”

She’s silent for a moment. “Okay.”

* * *

The week they spend on Starbase 6 is the happiest he can ever remember being. He even convinces her to go horseback riding, among other things. It’s been a while for all of the above, though, so he’s a bit sore and stiff when he returns to the Enterprise.

“I have been reliably informed that this shore leave constituted a honeymoon, Captain. I hope it was enjoyable,” Spock says, sounding a little too knowing. He’s not sure where that little veneer of innocence Spock had went and he sure as hell doesn’t know why and how Spock lost it, but he misses it.

* * *

She’s there by his side at his promotion ceremony and she’s figuratively holding him up as the clock starts ticking on his life as he knows it. He’s made preparations. There’s a message that will be sent to her and some instructions, just in case she still wants anything to do with him. He’s under no illusions, she’s barely into her forties and has plenty of life left to live without taking care of him.

He makes it through the ceremony and the party and all the pomp and circumstance of handing his ship over. He wishes the new guy luck and gives him some sage advice. Even better than that, he gives Captain James T. Kirk the best first officer in the fleet since his dear Number One took a promotion.

“Ah, well, you’ve done it to yourself,” he tells his reflection.

“Yep, it’s all training missions and milk runs from here on out.” She puts her chin on his shoulder and wraps her arms around him.

He takes one hand and kisses the back of it. “Don’t remind me. Let me have one more day as the dashing Captain of the Enterprise.”

She hides her smile in his shoulder blade, but he can still see it in her eyes. “Well, if you insist.”

* * *

Nothing terrible happens for a year and then everything, quite literally, explodes in his face.

* * *

When he comes to, he is numb and surprised to be aware of that fact. Everything in his head seems to be intact. Everything else is not. The staff at Starbase 11 teach him how to communicate, such as it is, and how to move what little he can. But most of the time he’s alone in his room and in his head. She’s not there and he doesn’t know if she wants to be or not. Either way, even if she turned the ship around as soon as she heard, she can’t be here for eight months.

* * *

Then the Talosians make their offer. It’s disturbing to see Vina in his room, unchanged by the passage of time. It’s even worse to suddenly have his body back.

“They can have you brought here and you’ll get it all back, all the time,” Vina says.

“I won’t. They can’t do that for me. No one can. Vina, I just want to be with my wife and have my career back. They can’t do any of that.”

“But I’m—I’m sorry. If you could just let them help you.”

“No.”

She’s gone and he loses the illusion. They don’t bother him again and he thinks he’s safe. But Spock shows up.

Inside the limited privacy of his own head, he wonders how they got him to agree to do this. How they convinced him to take his former captain away, regardless of how many times he makes this damn chair say no.

The whole court-martial is a farce from beginning to end. He’s amazed that Kirk doesn’t pick it up, but he’s desperate to save Spock in a way Pike recognizes if no one else does. But, all the same, how many trials go on for long after the accused pleads guilty?

In the end, at least Kirk asks what he wants and he agrees to go. But he suspects it’s the only way he’s going to get off this damn ship he used to love and the only way this ship is going to be able to leave orbit.

Vina meets him there and escorts him down. He can only assume the Talosians are bringing his actual body down too. It’s a new life, but despite the brochure’s promises, not one he’s fond of. 

He’s not there long before Vina decides her illusion is better than anything he’s willing to offer. Admittedly, he’s willing to offer company and not much else. She accepts that, but there’s a dream version of him running around still. It gives him the creeps even if it takes the pressure off.

Instead, he scouts the surface and works on their ancient technology.

“The true tragedy of this whole mess with General Order 7,” he tells Vina one day, “is that if they asked for help without any tricks, there’d be a whole crowd of Federation scientists and engineers working on their problems.”

“Well, they couldn’t have known that.”

“I know. Honestly, you’d be surprised how often this type of situation happens.”

The best part about Talos is feeling useful again. The worst part, he thinks at first, is being away from everyone and everything else he knows. Then, it becomes obvious that Vina is pregnant.

His first reaction is revulsion. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t want this. There’s no accident here. There’s no way he can get anyone pregnant without significant intervention and he’s amazed they were able to do it at all.

The kicker is Vina is pleased. That doppelgänger of his must be over the moon too, but he never sees him. He is angry, but he doesn’t know what he expected. They always wanted an Adam for their garden and they figured out how to get one. Adam’s consent notwithstanding.

“How’s this going to work Vina? Am I going to be Uncle Chris to my own flesh and blood? Are we going to give the kid whiplash with two identical fathers who act so differently? Or am I going to be my illusion’s twin brother?”

“Whatever you want, Chris.”

He doesn’t want any of this. This wasn’t exactly what he thought was going to happen when he was on Boreth.

* * *

Vina has a healthy baby boy. She names him Johan Christopher. He calls his son Joe. His world stops, reorients, and restarts the first time he holds Joe. He’s almost ripped apart by the competing impulses.

“I can’t help thinking it’s not fair for him to grow up here. There aren’t any other kids. Hell, there aren’t any others of his own species apart from his parents.”

Vina shrugs. “What can we do about it?”

* * *

The only thing he can think of is to work even harder to get the Talosian civilization back something of what they lost. If they’re able to function outside of their heads, then maybe the ban can be lifted.

* * *

That’s what he does for the next seven years. Joe, when he gets older, tries to help and eventually, he gets pretty good at identifying and handing over the correct tool when asked.He’s taking Joe for a walk on the surface one ordinary day. Joe loves the blue singing plants. He stops and lets his son play with the leaves, before reflexively grabbing him and pushing him between a rock and Chris’ own body.

“Stay still and quiet. Daddy needs to hear,” he whispers. What he thinks he just heard should be impossible. Rusted training kicks in and he scans his surroundings, wishing like hell that he had a working hand phaser on him.

He spots an unfamiliar shadow on the landscape some way in the distance, thankfully not in the direction of their home and whatever or whoever it is, they are about to have their vision obscured by the landscape.

“Joe, I want you to run as fast as you can for Mommy. Right. Now.”

Joe doesn’t argue for once and runs straight for the lift to the underground. Maybe because it’s the first time he’s heard Captain Pike instead of his dad.

He grabs a couple of rocks and ducks behind the large stones in the ground as he swings around the moving figure. If he can just get behind him, he’ll have the advantage. He doesn’t know who it could be on the planet. It’s in Federation space, last he checked anyway. There’s no reason for General Order 7 to be rescinded. The Talosians have become more functional than they were with the aid of their technology. But they still monitor the space around them, looking for stray thoughts.

Whoever is here is almost certainly here with their permission. He drops one rock and moves closer to what is definitely a humanoid figure.

Wait, no... Vulcanoid, not humanoid. His face is older and more haggard looking than he would have expected, but still absolutely recognizable.

“Spock?” he calls out.

"Captain?" Spock turns to look at him and Chris stands up, brushing dust he only imagines to be there off his clothes. Together they close the distance between them.

“What the hell are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re risking the death penalty again just for a chat.”

“I am not, Captain. General Order 7 was removed. Talosian space is merely heavily restricted. However, neither am I here for a chat.”

“Well, what are you here for?”

“To take you for medical treatment, should you agree.”

“Medical treatment?”

“Dr. Leonard McCoy did not forget your plight and neither did Una nor I. With some assistance, we have devised a treatment for delta ray exposure, even at such an extreme as your case. When treatment is concluded we believe you will have eighty to eighty-five percent of your previous functionality. After physical therapy, that percentage jumps to ninety to ninety-five.”

It takes a lot to concentrate on Spock’s words after hearing his wife’s—ex-wife’ s?— name for the first time in eight years. He manages and his first instinct is to take the treatment and get off this rock. He’s solved nearly every problem the Talosians had, they can use their own brains for something useful. It’ll be good for them.

But, it’s not just him he has to worry about.

“You’re sure about this?”

“You would be the most severe case to undergo the treatment, but there have been a number of others, all successful.”

“I have to talk to Vina.”

Spock’s eyebrow shoots up and he blinks, his voice is entirely neutral when he says, “Of course.”

He debates for a second whether to take Spock to the fledgling above ground Talosian settlement... “You just—Just stay here.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Right.”

* * *

“You should go,” Vina says. She looks down at her hands. “You should take Joe with you.”

That’s the real sore spot. Joe. He’s only seven years old. Just out of his most formative years. He still needs them. “I can’t take him away from his mother.”

“He needs to be around people. Human people and every species in the Federation. What’s he going to do in five years? Ten? You have to give him that life.”

“Come with us then.”

She shakes her head. “If treatment exists for me, I don’t want to go through it. They put me together so I worked, but very little was put together properly. I can’t go throughthat... I’ve been here for over thirty years, Chris. This is my home, but it’s not yours and it shouldn’t be Joe’s.”

Explaining things to Joe is harder. Daddy’s leaving goes over poorly. You can go with Daddy goes over well. The answer to the question of Mommy’s whereabouts.. well, Chris has seen more successful lead balloons.

But Vina sells him on leaving. Hopefully, for long enough to get them off the planet. He hasn’t even stopped to think about how Una will react. Will she even care?

He takes Joe with him to find Spock, who is waiting dutifully where Chris left him.

“Joe, this is my friend Mr. Spock. Spock, this is Joe, my son. He’ll be coming with me.”

Spock’s eyes widen for the second time, but he recovers quickly and holds up the ta’al. “It is good to meet you, Joe.”

“Hi,” Joe says.

“He doesn’t meet a lot of people. Joe, Daddy’s going to look different here in a few minutes. He’s going to be in his chair. I need you to be brave for me. Mr. Spock will help you.”

“Indeed. I will help you, Joe.”

Joe nods.

“This is going to be difficult, Spock. For him, especially.” He wishes there was more time to explain, but he doesn’t know how long it’ll be until Joe gets overwhelmed and refuses to go.

Spock picks up his urgency and pulls out a communicator. “Enterprise, three to beam up.”

* * *

The Enterprise looks different than he remembers, but the bones of the ship are the same. The Captain is the same as last time, except he’s an admiral.

“Welcome aboard, Captain Pike and who’s this?”

“This is Joe, Captain Pike’s son.”

“Hi.”

“I’m Dr. McCoy, Joe. If you and your dad could come with me, I’ll make sure everything is going to be all right with both of you.”

Joe holds onto Spock’s sleeve like a lifeline the whole way to Sickbay and Chris’ heart breaks a little to see his son so distressed and unable to do anything to fix it.

* * *

They start treatment on the ship, with priority to vital functions and communication. Dr. Chapel reminds him of Una and he wishes someone would tell him what she’s been up to. He wishes he could ask. By the time they reach Starbase 11, he can only make noises, not words.

* * *

He wakes up and he’s not on the ship anymore. There’s no vibration from the warp engine that he can feel... He can feel. Really feel and he’s on a bed. For the first time in over eight years, he’s laying on a bed.

He opens his eyes.

“Stay still. If you disconnect anything the whole staff is going to run in,” Una warns him.

Every bit that he missed her when he was on Talos crashes down on him and he feels tears roll down the sides of his face.

“Easy. Easy. It’s all right, Chris.” She wipes away his tears. She leans down and kisses him just over his right eyebrow, the less damaged side of his face, and pets his hair.

Right then, no matter what happens next, he knows he’s the luckiest man in the universe. She still cares about him.

“Joe’s doing all right, by the way. He’s a cute kid. Spock will bring him by now that you’re awake.”

Another weight falls from him. Joe is okay and Una is far less visibly upset than he ever expected. He wants to tell her what happened... but he’s not sure where to start or if she’ll be able to understand him.

“You’re three-quarters of the way through the treatment, but we won’t have to keep you under anymore. Your body is handling all its own autonomic functions and you have full sensation and reflexes back. Most of your organs have been fully regenerated, but there’s still work to be done, particularly with your skin. The rest is mostly regeneration of your atrophied muscles and various therapies. Physical, occupational, speech... and so on.”

He jerks his head in something that almost resembles a nod. There’s so much he wants to say and so much he wants to know. He tries to implore her to speak with his eyes. Maybe it works or maybe it doesn’t. He doesn’t care because she starts to speak again.

“I wasn’t very good at keeping my promise to you. I couldn’t move on. I was very angry for a long time at Mendez, Kirk, Spock... and you. Somehow you knew that explosion was going to happen. That’s why you said that before our wedding. You were trying to warn me. Hell, you sent me a message and made every damn arrangement you could think to make.

“And Spock. He put you in the one place I couldn’t reach you. I didn’t even get to see you. And now you’re here after eight years with a son. I don’t even know what to think. I just have to wait for you to be able to explain it to me.”

He tries a nod again. He wants to explain everything he can to her. Something glints and catches his attention. It’s her wedding band. It’s still the one he put there. Her hand is close to his face and if he can move his head just enough...

She looks at him curiously as he shifts around on the pillow in tiny jerks. Her hand sways a bit closer and he presses his lips against her ring as much as he can. It’s a pretty pathetic effort, but it works. She smiles.

For the first time, he tries to speak. It’s barely a whisper and he hopes she can hear and understand, but he’s almost frantic with the need to talk to her. “I love you. Joe. Not my idea. Talosians. But he’s my son. Love him. My son. Thought about you every day,” he tries to say.

Her eyebrows knit in concentration to catch the quiet, slurred words. When he stops, she starts. “I love you too. And I... you’ll have to explain about Joe... not now, but I’m curious how they were able to manage. Your DNA and RNA damage was so severe, I don’t know how they found a viable sample.” She shakes her head. “But I understand. Really I do. And you came back to me. You didn’t have to, but you did.”

“Needed to,” he replies.

“Okay, okay. It was necessary.” She smiles again and leans down to press the most gentle kiss on his lips.

For the first time in a long time, he believes everything is going to be okay. He’ll go through treatment and therapy, get as much of his body back as he can. She’ll be with him through it all and the rest of their lives. He’ll do is best to do right by his son. Maybe they’ll give up the stars and settle in Mojave. He doesn’t care much anymore where he is, so long as he has her.


End file.
